


Mice Will Play

by OriginalCeenote



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Barebacking, Challenge fic, F/M, Flirting, Infidelity, Never Trust a Weather Witch, Old Fashioned Intercourse, Oral, Sex During a Mission, Sexy Dancing, based on X-treme X-Men, brief masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:58:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4059166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalCeenote/pseuds/OriginalCeenote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>616 Comic-verse Universe, from around issues 31-32 of the Xtreme X-Men series. In the wake of Rogue losing her powers, she craves touch. When Gambit leaves with Storm, can the two separated lovers deny their needs?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

**Author's Note:**

> This is reposted from adultfanfiction.org. It was a challenge from a reader who wanted to see an interracial story after they read one of my RoLo stories out on the Realm. I was happy to take the challenge.

Valle Soleada, CA

“It’s bigger than I thought,” Sage remarked as Lucas knocked sharply on the heavy oak door with elegant beveled glass panes. Lucas sighed and leaned back against the porch’s support beam, folding his arms as they waited.

“It’s pretty nice, more than I expected,” he admitted, surveying the beachfront before them. “Rogue’s done well for herself.”

“That’s what happens when you inherit a king’s ransom built from a life of crime,” she mused. He frowned.

“You belonged to the Hellfire Club, once upon a time. During my time, you never joined the XSE. Not that you aren’t a welcome addition,” he added. Her expression was stoic as ever, barely curling the corner of her mouth. “Can you really be so quick to point the finger about profiting from illegal gain?”

“Things change…sometimes. Becoming an X-Man was an act of faith on all of our parts. Prior to becoming Shaw’s assistant, I was a mercenary and trained assassin. The only thing that set me apart from any other killer was my willingness to fight for the right side. Not unlike Logan.”

“That’s stretching things a bit.” Lucas wasn’t so sure Logan was fighting for any side except his own. They hadn’t seen the gruff loner in several weeks. Still, Lucas acknowledged, the binding factor in Sage and Logan’s respective inductions to the team was Ororo. She vouched for the character of both of them and gave more than the benefit of the doubt.

They were interrupted by quick footsteps inside, growing closer until the front door was unlatched and yanked open.

“Yer HERE! Aw, c’mon in and gimme some sugah!” Rogue was radiant as she launched herself across the porch. Lucas hardly had time to brace himself before she practically knocked him over.

“Rogue! OOF!” She no longer possessed enhanced strength. She embraced like a normal woman, but she had a solid grip on him, hanging on his neck and kicking up her heels.

It occurred to him that her cheek was pressed against his bare neck.

Nothing was happening.

“Hold on a minute! Have you lost your mind?”

“Aw, shoog, live a little and lighten up,” she chided him, releasing him and stepping back to look him over. “Damn, Luke, ya look good in yer civvies. But by the time ya’ve been here a couple of hours, yer gonna agree with me that yer wearin’ too much. We’re about ta hit the peak hours.”

“You’ve already gone native,” Sage remarked, eyeing Rogue’s outfit.

“You like?” She did a little sashay and turn, hands on her hips.

She was nearly bare. Rogue wore a tiny, tiny handkerchief top that tied around her neck and across her back in a neat knot, leaving little to the imagination. Her shorts were denim cut-offs that she’d slashed here and there with a razor blade, the hems just landing shy of her undercurves.

Sage looked at her quizzically. Lucas silently drooled.

Her skin was perfect, free of scars and nearly poreless, and now mildly tanned from time on the coast. The most striking accessory for Rogue’s new look was a tattoo of bold black ink that reached from her shoulder to her wrist. The angular, tribal patterns were unearthly and beautiful and looked as though they took hours.

“You can’t just take me by surprise like that, Rogue! What about your powers? We still don’t know if they’re permanently gone or dormant. Remember how you manifested the ones you’d absorbed before, sometimes with no warning? I don’t want any surprises.”

“Only surprises I got up my sleeve are what’s to eat and all the sights I wanna take ya ta see,” she shrugged, flashing a dimpled smile. “My powers have gone bye-bye, Luke. And I ain’t complainin’. I haven’t felt this free since I was just old enough for a trainin’ bra.” She stepped out of the shade, enjoying the sun’s rays against her bare back. She hummed a low sound of contentment.

“What made you decide on some ink?” Sage inquired. She joined Rogue briefly and reached tentatively for her forearm. She traced the intricate lines of the tattoo.

She snatched her hand back as the pattern shimmered and seemed to follow her fingertips, pooling around them. “Oh!”

“Don’t worry, honey, it ain’t gonna bite. It’s temporary. Mah friend Paint did ‘em, she’s a real artist. She can do you all, too.”

“No, thank you,” Sage sniffed. “I’ve been marked once.” She leaned her elbows over the porch rail and looked contemplative. “It won’t happen again.” Luke glanced at her face, a creamy, patrician mask marred only by the long, jagged scars trailing from the corners of her eyes to midway down her cheekbones. They were a gruesome reminder of the only time Sage ever needed the X-Men’s help, when they’d nearly arrived too late.

“Suit yerself, sugah,” Rogue offered. “But in the meantime, c’mon! Luke, yer gonna help me in the kitchen. We can have some of the sweet tea I made and we’ll get caught up.”

They followed her hesitantly to the back of the house. She felt their eyes on her back and their unspoken questions as they perused her home.

“You have some lovely things, Rogue.”

“That’s another thang, sugah. Ya don’t hafta call me that all the time, now. Rogue’s just a codename I don’t need anymore. I go by Anna now. Anna Raven.”

“It’s nice,” Lucas replied. “Suits you.”

“The first name’s mine. I borrowed the other one from Momma.”

“You still consider her your mother,” Sage said. There was no hint of curiosity in her voice, but there was wariness. Rogue met her gaze levelly, unblinking.

“Didn’t say Ah loved her. Didn’t say Ah trusted her. Didn’t say Ah’m sendin’ her a Mother’s Day card any time soon. But yeah, shoog, she’s mah Momma. The only one Ah’ve ever had.”

“What Sage means is that if there was ever someone who was much, much more than the sum of their parts, Anna, it’s you,” Lucas quipped. Rogue winked, lips curling slowly and enticingly. Lucas saw at that moment how young she truly was, without the shadows that used to haunt her moss green eyes. She was vibrant and happy, and looked every inch the woman she was meant to be, had her powers and desperate lifestyle not gotten in the way. Thief, would-be assassin, officer, pawn…Rogue was never truly a child.

“Um, Luke…Ah guess Ah put mah foot in mah mouth about the whole tattoo thing.”

“No big deal. I like yours. It’s…different.” His intelligent coffee brown eyes held understanding, the right one marred slightly by the dark ‘M’ insignia burned into his flesh.

“It’s over the top, Ah know, but again, it makes me feel less bare.”

“So does putting on some actual clothes,” Sage muttered. Her expression wasn’t truly a smile, and her voice was so calm and measured. “We’ve got enough women running around half-naked at the school as it is.”

“Ah ain’t ready t’come back to the school. Don’t know if Ah even have to. Remy an’ Ah are just makin’ our way and figurin’ it out as we go along.”

“Remy’s still out in the field, even in his limited capacity,” Sage reasoned. 

“Remy still enjoys the life. Needs something ta occupy himself. I’ve got mah bikes. If Remy wants t’go out on a recon with ‘Roro every now and again, that’s up to him. I’m his lover. Not his momma.” She opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a huge glass pitcher of iced tea with lemon wedges floating in it.

“I see.”

“Well, Ah hope ya do see, and that ya understand, Sage. Ah came ta Charles ta help me control my powers because they were killin’ me. Ah didn’t know who Ah was, and Ah’m still decidin’ that now, but at least Ah can do it without hundreds of other voices screamin’ in mah head.”

“Who’s to say that they’ll stop screaming?” Lucas joked. “I hear voices all the time.”

“Right. Better call Charles up, then, Luke…” She rolled her eyes at him and poured him a tall glass, handing it to him. Once again he tensed as her fingertips grazed his, but once again, nothing happened.

Her skin was soft and cool.

“What Ah’m sayin’ is, if Ah ain’t a mutant anymore, Ah don’t necessarily belong to a school for ‘em, now do Ah?”

“That’s up to you. You won’t be the first person at the school who stayed on, even depowered, if that’s what it comes down to.”

“Carol did that once upon a time, but she’d had her fill once Ah moved in. She wasn’t too happy ‘bout it.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently she gained a different power than the ones Ah stole. She came in the front door, took one look at me, and cleaned mah clock.”

“Ooh,” Luke winced.

“Ah never aspired ta be an X-Man, Luke. It’s just how the cards fell when they were dealt.”

“So this is your chance to bow out?” Sage murmured over the edge of her tea before taking a sip. She made a contented noise and sat on one of the leather bar stools by the counter.

“This is mah chance ta cool my heels. Think Ah’ve earned it. Look around.” She motioned to her immaculate kitchen. “Ah have a home, a job, mah man who loves me, and who’s loved me through ten kinds of hell an’ back, and a life that doesn’t involved nearly gettin’ killed every time Ah draw a breath. Ah’m tired, girl.”

“History never showed that you lost your powers,” Luke pointed out.

“History’s been rewritin’ itself since ya got here, Luke.” She waited for him to put his glass down before poking him in the ribs. He jumped back and stifled a laugh.

“Quit it!”

“Whatsamatter? Afraid of a li’l ol’ girl who lost her powers? Ah can’t hurt ya, Luke!” She jabbed him again, and he slapped at her darting hands. A smile twisted his lips. Sage watched the spectacle they made, bored.

“What’s the status on Ororo and Remy?” he barked between warnings and Rogue’s giggles.

“I’m getting an update now,” she informed him coolly as she removed her pair of cybernetic glasses from her bag. A small white light gleamed on the stem and the red lenses glowed. She punched a tiny button and brought up the array and high-speed connection.

“GPS says they are at the Presidential ranch with no incident or problems,” she said.

“Good,” Luke replied.

“They’re in the open; I won’t attempt contact until they’re in a private location. Scanner readings show several occupants and compromise any communication with us if we don’t want to blow their cover.”

“Such as it is,” Rogue tsked. “Ah can’t believe Remy’s goofball idea for a disguise. Ororo should be ashamed of herself for goin’ along with it.”

“I told her to use the mini inducer,” Sage sighed. “She was stubborn about it.”

“Tell me about it.” Luke looked annoyed. “She’s been so…reckless, lately.”

“Remy’s been rubbin’ off on her for a while.” Anna opened the refrigerator again and began taking out ingredients for chicken tacos.

“So you’d like to believe,” Sage argued. “I know Storm. She’s not immune from impulsive actions. Don’t blame Remy, Anna.”

“Two of ‘em are peas in a pod.”

“You miss him, don’t you?” Luke looked thoughtful. Anna looked wistful.

“Yeah. Ah sure do.”


	2. Watching You Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two friends take some much needed R&R…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

_The best way of hiding yourself is in plain sight._ Remy’s advice drifted in Ororo’s head as she smiled prettily for the paparazzi. Flash bulbs flickered over her as the media delighted in the arrival of the glamorous socialite in their midst.

He was enjoying himself too much; this much was clear by his easy smile and the handful of women listening to him raptly by the bar. He nursed a shot of whiskey and lounged in his stylish silk suit. The shirt was open at the throat and the taut cords of his neck flexed as he swallowed the liquor. Remy sucked the droplet from his lip, making his entourage wish they had beaten him to it.

His charm was working just fine. Evidently, that wasn’t one of his mutant gifts after all. Ororo sighed.

She loved watching him work.

The feeling was mutual. Remy watched her slowly work the crowd, occasionally using her tiny cell phone to encourage privacy. She surveyed the hall and reached up to smooth her hair.

Imperceptibly, she clicked on the scanner array of her dark glasses. The lenses were dark this time, a more subtle hematite gray and much less conspicuous. Ororo knew the names and titles of every person present no matter which way she turned, as the information toggled in a side frame along her line of vision.

She continued to make polite chit-chat and work the crowd. Ororo checked her watch; there were three minutes left until the press briefing and conference.

She spied the familiar, blonde, impeccably dressed Val Cooper and fought back a grimace. There was no love lost between them.

She still needed to hear what she had to say about mutants. Ororo felt Val had no idea the bearing her words had on the feelings of baseline humans afraid of those who were gifted. Scott’s original focus of founding X-Factor was to protect mutants under the guise of apprehending them; Val’s involvement with her government liaisons had turned the team into soldiers of a sort.

But now it wasn’t clear what threat teams like Val’s or Ororo’s were meant to police and bring under control: Mutants who abused their gifts, baseline humans who threatened them, or the innocents who were caught in the crossfire who took matters into their own hands to rectify the problem.

When Ororo peered back to find Remy, he’d disappeared. She frowned and clicked the Cerebra interface in the glasses to search for his signature.

Remy’s mutant abilities were gone, but his genome was still detectable, thankfully, due to some modifications Sage had made in the wake of his injuries.

She made her excuses to a senator who’d offered her a drink, pleading that she had to powder her nose. She slipped out quietly and followed Remy’s signature.

“You know better than this,” she murmured as she opened the door. He chuckled from his perch on the edge of a queen-sized bed.

“Sit close so I don’ hafta turn de volume up, cher,” he told her, patting the place beside him. She had no reservations toward the close contact as she took his suggestion. He was her best friend, and they shared a familial bond, like siblings.

Most of the time.

Beneath his usual cologne, Remy’s natural scent piqued her, ripe with pheromones that were part of his “charm,” so far as she knew. Ororo resisted the urge to lean in closer and bury her nose in his neck. He bumped her playfully as her skin grazed his. She grinned and bumped back.

They both gave the small laptop their rapt attention.

“…the nation’s security council is still deliberating on how to deal with the recent mutant threats against baseline humans. The President held a conference with Senator Robert Kelly regarding the now-defunct Project Wideawake last week, but a motion to revive it was shelved. The Supreme Court ruled that the Project violated privacy laws and mutants’ First Amendment rights.

New demographics have revealed that more mutants have risen among the country’s population, whether this is due to spikes in mutant births, or merely mutants who have chosed to identify themselves cannot be determined. How many of these mutant citizens the nation can consider a threat is still up in the air.

The assembly would like to recognize National Security Advisor for Parahuman Affairs, Dr. Valerie Cooper…”

“I’ve just lost my appetite,” Ororo muttered.

“Hush, cher,” Remy hissed.

“Like it or not, gentlemen, battle lines have already been drawn between mutants and humanity…” Val Cooper still had a way with words as she gave her presentation, herself the ideal image of humankind, conservative and classically beautiful. She was a baseline Anti-Christ.

“So dis is what they’re whisperin’ in de President’s ear, eh?” Remy mused.

“They know where we live now, thanks to Cassandra Nova, brother. They don’t even have to whisper now. We’re easier targets.”

“I hate to interrupt the party, but I need to see your invitations,” a crisp voice behind them announced. Remy sighed and turned toward its source. His smile was winning as he recognized the striking blonde. “And I thought I told you this was a restricted area. I didn’t catch your names.”

“Already made yer acquaintance, Detective-Inspector Baltimore,” he shrugged.

“Call us late for dinner,” Ororo interrupted as she rose from the bed.

“Keep your hands where I can see them.”

“Why? I have no weapons. I’m here as a houseguest.”

“I like to be cautious. Show me some ID or credentials. Now.” She reached for the sidearm tucked in her blazer. Her tight smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“If you insist.”

Ororo’s hands were spread, palms up to show that she bore her no ill will.

Suddenly, burst of blue-white static erupted from them in jagged arcs, filling the room with the smell of burning ozone.

“Holy! NNNnngghh!!” The inspector’s body spasmed as Ororo’s low-voltage charge of lightning overloaded her nervous system, rendering every muscle inert. She passed out. Remy sighed.

“A lil’ overkill, eh?”

“Jealous? She wasn’t buying your smooth act. Maybe your charm DID disappear with your charge,” she pondered, raising one snowy brow. Remy muttered under his breath, mimicking her words and making mouthing motions with his hand. Ororo couldn’t help it. She giggled. He helped her lay the inspector on the bed before they took their leave.

Overhead, a storm brewed and stirred up thick gray clouds.

*

_“The forecast got it wrong. Alert all commands, this storm is murder!”_

_The Weather Channel:_

_Major storm warnings have now been issued throughout central Texas. This is a fast-moving and exceptionally dangerous system._

_“So much for tonight’s barbecue.”_

_“Forget that, we gotta get the bosses outta here!”_

_“The point, gentlemen, as Dr. Cooper told us – as we ourselves have seen – is that a single mutant has the power to destabilize…”_

_Chaos erupted all over the state over the biggest twister ever witnessed, characterized by clusters of lightning._

The White House was in a panic.

*

“Stormy, jus’ promise me one t’ing.”

“Anything, brother,” Ororo replied. She removed her glasses and revealed her eyes, which were now glowing a blinding white and sparking with static.

“Tell me this ain’t you playin’ around.”

“Hang on tight, brother.” She told him no such thing. He drove their Jeep uneasily through the back gates of the ranch unhindered by security in the melee.

Once they were several miles out, Ororo unbuckled her seat belt and released herself to the winds.

“Stay quick, stay safe,” she called back. “Take cover.”

“Stormy!”

“I’ll come for you,” she promised before the gale drowned out her voice. From there, she was lost.

Her body slowly grew smaller the higher she flew. Remy knew it wouldn’t help him to stop the car and put the top up; he chose instead to do as she told him, gunning the engine. It was like a scene out of Twister.

His red-on-black eyes reflected the pounding rain and tearing branches, illuminated by golden streaks of lightning. He felt the static running up his arms, raising the hairs and chilling him. Excitement and fear twisted his stomach. The only thing standing between the Cajun and true terror was knowing the woman flying above had his back, and that she was an expert at this sort of thing.

Some said she was a goddess, in fact…

Up in the air, Ororo was having the time of her life.

The winds howled in her ears, challenging her. They snatched at her clothing, a frail designer summer suit that would be a lost cause once this was over. She’d already shed the ridiculous short, black wig that was part of her disguise, revealing closely trimmed platinum hair. Liquid sapphire eyes proclaimed her a daughter of the sky.

The funnel caught her, but she mastered herself, zeroing in on the eye. Once she held it in her hand, the outcome was hers.

She reveled in using her powers, of being in control. Her body’s boundaries lay forgotten in tatters when she held the storm. The pain of angling her flight in the face of such force made her begin to ache, thanks in part to her recently healed spinal injury.

It was a good pain. It let her know she was alive.

Below, Remy worried, even as he cheered for her.

“Show-off,” he muttered, miserable from the chill.

Yet he could tell she was having the time of her life.

*

Less than an hour later, the winds decreased and the thunderous roar dimmed to a low howl.

Residents in the countryside gave report to the media that as the eye of the storm passed, they could almost see a face in the clouds, lit brightly by the full moon.

Some said it was the storm kissing them goodbye.

 

*

“If ya wanted t’give me a heart attack, Stormy, then good job,” Remy sighed into her hair.

“Don’t call me Stormy.”

“Fine, den. Yer name’s mud for pullin’ dat kinda stunt when ya’ve barely recovered. Don’ make me tell Logan dat ya’ve been a bad, bad girl.” Ororo grimaced.

“He’s got enough to worry about.”

“He’s worried ‘bout you, chere. An’ he ain’t alone. Damn it, girl!” He gave her backside a light spank. When she chuckled into his shirt, he gave her a slightly harder one.

The current from a nearby waterfall created a soothing song in the background as they lay on the riverbanks. The air still held the lingering smell of ozone but was cool and fresh, replenishing Ororo. Remy felt her breathing, so choppy and uneven before, begin to steady itself.

She hadn’t found him; she’d followed him, nearly bringing the storm to his doorstep.

And when she’d drifted to within yards of the ground, spent from her flight, he caught her. Remy staggered from the impact, tripping and sending them both crashing to the soaked earth. His heart hammered in his ears. He wouldn’t let go of her. His embrace was crushing, but Ororo craved it, so relieved to feel his presence and to know he was alive.

They’d nearly lost each other before.

Then, like now, by the river, they took comfort in each other, reclined with Ororo plastered against his body. Her only complaint was all of the grime in her clothes and hair, making her feel sticky and slightly uncomfortable, but she was loathe to move. She was lulled nearly to sleep by the rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek.

“Ya impressed dis Southern boy again, chere.”

“I’m a horrible actress,” she replied sleepily.

“Non. The way ya wrapped up dat storm all nice an’ neat.”

“Call it a hobby.”

“How ya feel?”

“Like a punching bag,” she admitted. “Ow…”

“Serves ya right. Tell me somethin’…”

“Shoot.”

“Didja feel dat storm brewin’ before it came…or didja wake it up?” She lifted her head just enough to gaze into his face. Her expression was incredulous.

“Remy…”

“You heard me,” he admonished, wagging his finger just shy of her nose.

“What do you think?” Her voice dared him to doubt her intentions. Remy’s lips tightened.

She was done with the discussion. Ororo struggled free – albeit reluctantly, since he felt so good – and strolled to the edge of the river. Remy sighed as he watched her, admiring the long line of her back.

She began to undress. “Goddess, I’m filthy.” Deftly she unbuttoned the snug, double-breasted vest she wore and dropped it on the ground. She kicked off the murderous stilettos and made equally short work of the short skirt.

She wasn’t wearing underwear. Whether it was to complete her “costume” and to truly feel the part she attempted to play, or whether it was a sensual choice, Remy couldn’t tell.

Behind her, he simply drooled.

Her glutes rolled seductively as she walked, then climbed a large boulder. Moonlight gleamed on her brown skin, and Ororo’s cropped white hair shone like a halo.

She sprang from the rock in a perfect swan dive, heedless of the depths. It unnerved him; the river was lined with craggy rocks and was nearly opaque in the darkness. She assuaged his fears as she emerged moments later in a shower of droplets.

Being wet enhanced her beauty. Ororo sighed in contentment as the water lapped at her, enticing her to float on her back.

Unwelcome stiffness crept between Remy’s legs. Her lush, round breasts bobbed above the water’s surface.

Remy blamed his absence from Valle Soleada for his errant thoughts. He missed Anna, plain and simple. Nothing more. She was everything he’d ever wanted, the love of his life, body – finally – and soul. Several days on the road, closed up in a car and sharing close quarters with his Stormy wasn’t helping matters at all. Remy and Ororo lived by a thief’s code of honor, and as “padnats,” they watched each other’s back.

Even though Ororo led an expert team of mutant soldiers, he felt protective of her since the day they met.

When he’d met her, she was a child with woman’s eyes. Remy had sheltered her in the cover of darkness and literally kept the demons at bay that would do her harm. He credited his softer side for the way she affected him, spoiling her, giving into her smallest whims. Her mischievous nature and girlish laughter made it easy.

The girl became a woman, right before his eyes, when Ororo reverted to her adult state in Genosha. The girl whose looks promised future beauty took his breath away.

Remy found it hard to breathe now.

Ororo felt him watching her. “Did you report back to Sage?”

“Before ya caught up with me, I linked her to the feed from the summit. She’s in the know.”

“Good. I think she’ll be pleased.”

“Ororo, how’re ya holdin’ up?”

“As well as can be.” His expression was concerned and contemplative. “Don’t worry.”

“Too late for dat, chere.”

“As Anna would so eloquently put it, Remy, lighten up.”

“Non, Stormy. Ain’t gonna happen. Yer not yerself lately. Goes deeper than you gettin’ back on yer feet.” He tapped himself over his heart. “Somthin’s changed in here.”

“I supposed you’ll explain to me what?”

“Still the same on de outside. Dat’s a good thang,” he emphasized. Ororo chuckled. “It’s just…don’ know how t’describe it, petit. Wilder late, I guess. Flyin’ wild. Takin’ risks. An’ forgive me, chere…y’ain’t as level-headed.”

“Pfft,” she tsked as she treaded water. The water almost concealed his view of her body with only her shoulders drifting above it, but he could still make out the dim, rippling outline of her curves. It wasn’t helping.

He wasn’t the only one affected.

His eyes glowed like rubies lying on black velvet. Remy’s body was relaxed as he leaned back against a rock, elbows resting on his knees and dangling his hands between them. His sedate khaki slacks and beige polo shirt looked the worse for wear, less tattered than her ruined outfit, but still dirty and wrinkled. His carefully styled hair was just as rumpled, but much more sexy.

Since they’re respective brushes with death, he’d regained his strength and health, once again lightly tanned and fit from fresh air and exercise. 

“I never know what you’re thinking when you look at me like that,” Ororo murmured, almost too softly for him to hear.

“Liar. Ya know good an’ damn well what’s on ma mind,” he accused. “An’ don’t change the subject. Admit it: I almost lost you up ‘dere.”

“I’ll admit no such thing.”

“Ain’ tryin’ t’shoot ya down, chere, or throw stones. But if we’re gonna do this right, and if ya wanna sell this idea you an’ Sage have been tryin’ t’sell me on, about bein’ a sanctioned team on government payroll – “

“I know you have qualms about going legitimate, brother.”

“…den ya’ve gotta be sharp an’ on top of yer game. Physically. Mentally. And in here,” he said, again tapping his chest. Her gentle smile died, and her sigh was rough.

“I’m alive. I’m here. There’s no time like now to make our move. And forgive me if I’ve forgotten a time where I’ve ever let you down?”

“Non. Ain’ nothin’ t’forgive, chere.”

“Then there’s no need to lecture me.”

“Ain’t lecturin’ ya, Stormy. Ya know by know that I’ve got yer back. Ain’t gonna open my mouth an’ tell ya all these things an’ den not tell ya that I’ll be there t’catch you when ya need it.” She made a sound of agreement and flipped back onto her back, cleaving through the current.

“Goddess, I’m tired,” she admitted.

“Don’ lie ‘dere an’ tell me yer doin’ fine, then, chere. C’mon out an’ rest.” She waded into the shallows and hauled herself halfway out. Ororo’s eyes drifted shut. The air was slightly chilly to Remy, who was accustomed to the humid climate of the Bayou. He even preferred dry Texas summers like there was that morning before the twister.

As if she read his mind, Ororo murmured “Cold, brother?” Her eyes drifted open again, and she gazed into his face as he stood and approached her. They swirled from cerulean to icy white as she gently warmed the air.

“Thanks, padnat.”

“Anything for you.”

“Ya promise?”

“I’m a woman of my word.”

He hunkered down on the rock before her and studied her. Ororo felt his light touch as he stroked back tendrils of her hair that were plastered to her forehead. Her eyes reverted to blue, and they were full of questions. She licked her lips.

They were ripe and red from her immersion in the cold river, begging to be tasted.

“Then de first thing y’can do for me, Stormy, is t’hold still.” He traced the curve of her cheek with the backs of his knuckles, lifted her chin and kissed her tenderly. She sighed into his mouth, welcoming the feel and the taste of him.

Anna’s waiting for you at home, missing you. Needing you. She’s the love of your life, and she doesn’t deserve this. And how’re you gonna face Ororo if you push this too far?

He felt the moment that Ororo reached the same conclusion, but she trembled. He withdrew but feathered the corner of her mouth with his fingertip.

“Rogue will kill us both for this.

"You just' got a kiss 'Ro. She owns my heart.”

"For the first time, I envy her.” Her words broke the spell as unease and guilt settled over him. Remy sat up and raked his fingers through his hair.

“Ya shouldn’t. That shouldna’ happened. It ain’t fair t’Anna or t’you.”

“Remy, it might have happened sooner or later.” Ororo traced the patters of quartz in the rock beneath her idly. “I won’t deny that I haven’t thought about you this way, at one time or another, despite what you and Anna share. Despite reason.”

“Yer s’posed t’be the reasonable one.”

“Things change. But we face right now, Remy, is a choice.”

“Naw. Ain’t nothin’ t’discuss.”

“If you like.”

“What’s dis ‘choice’ ya had in mind, den?”

“One: We forget this ever happened. We go on as we have, as friends. Close friends,” she amended. “You go back to Anna with a clean slate. Two,” and her voice lowered, grew husky, “we evaluate what made you kiss me. In detail.”

She felt a heaviness in her feminine center, thanks in part to the way he looked at her, nostrils flared and eyes dilated, as well as the water lapping seductively against her naked body. Her nipples were ruched and stiff.

Remy’s pulse skipped.

“I love her. I love her so damned much, Stormy.”

“I know you do.” Her face softened as though, she, too, were weighing the consequences and wondering if the prospect of pleasure was worth the betrayal.

They couldn’t live with themselves if they fell over the edge.

They couldn’t live without knowing what could have been.

“No matter what you decide, Remy, I’ll understand.”

He shook his head, opened his mouth as if to say something, but abandoned the thought.

His hands spoke for him, reaching for her. He gripped her shoulders, hauled her from the water and crushed her mouth beneath his. Arousal, excitement and relief over his decision coursed through her body as this time, he kissed her hard enough to bruise. He ached for her.

He pulled her to her feet to stand flush against him, lips, chests, bellies, thighs meeting in passion. She was drenching his clothing, but he didn’t care. His mouth slid over hers, consuming her with sultry, hot kisses that left her breathless. His hands branded her with their heat and craved her smooth skin, caressing and kneading the slopes and curves of her body. He wanted to feast on her.

Her long, slender fingers combed through his hair, then clutched it as she pulled him more deeply into their kiss. Her voice was a choppy moan, one after another as she clawed at his shirt, yanking the hem from his waistband. His skin felt hot underneath; she caressed Remy greedily, exploring his chest and belly, savoring how taut they were. Just as impatiently, he reached up behind his shoulders and bunched up the polo shirt, gathering it and separating himself from her long enough to strip it off.

“This is crazy,” he blurted. “Aw, Stormy, yer makin’ this too damned hard!”

“Then shut up,” she suggested. “And don’t stop.”


	3. Out on the Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogue wants to spend time with her friends and show them a night on the town. However, one of them decides to take a rain check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. Was basically supposed to be a oneshot, but I didn't want anyone to be reading one long, neverending single page of text when I originally uploaded it. I'm a wuss.

“Sage? Sugah, ain’tcha gonna get ready?” Anna emerged from the bathroom adjoining her bedroom suite wrapped in a large blue towel, skin still dewy from her shower. Her auburn hair was slick and plastered to her neck.

Sage replied without looking up from her laptop. “What was I supposed to be getting ready for?”

“We were all goin’ out!”

“No,” Sage corrected her gently, mid-keystroke, “you and Bishop were going out.”

“Excuse me? Have I still got shampoo in mah ears…Ah asked ya what ya thought of goin’ out on the town to that club Ah was tellin’ Luke about at dinner. Ya said ya thought it sounded decent.”

“It did.” Her fingers continued to fly across the keys.

“So?”

“I didn’t say it sounded decent to me.”

“Well…gee,” Anna muttered, throwing up her hands. The motion made her breasts jiggle, threatening the snugness of her wrap. “Can’t exactly read yer mind, sugah.”

“I can’t read yours, either, thanks to your lovely genome, dear,” she deadpanned. Anna turned to her doorframe, braced her hands against it, and proceeded to knock her forehead against it in futility.

“Ah walked right inta that one,” she sighed. Anna began digging through her enormous walk-in closet. “Will ya at least help me pick out somethin’ ta wear?”

“You’re not exactly five; you know how to dress yourself, I can assume.” Sage almost cracked a smile. Almost.

“Yer no fun, didja know that? Ah just mean can ya give me an opinion if Ah hold somethin’ up, and ya help me make sure that it doesn’t make me look fat?”

“You have lovely clothes,” Sage assured her.

“It ain’t just the clothes. It’s the body in the clothes that Ah worry about lately. Goes back ta that whole “Ah can let people see a little skin” now that they can touch mah skin philosophy we discussed downstairs.”

“I see your point.”

“It’s gonna be swelterin’ tonight, accordin’ ta the news. It’s already hot enough ta break a sweat as soon as ya step out the front door.”

“So dress light.”

“Ah wanna dress hot..” Hangers squeaked along the rod as Anna slid them across one by one, eyeing their offerings. “Ah think you’d be the one ta know how ta do that, bein’ how back in the day, ya ran around in camisoles and boots.” Sage’s eyebrows flew up in surprise.

“Hmph,” she sniffed. She rose from her perch in Anna’s papasan chair and set aside the laptop. “Well, if you really can’t make this decision without my help…”

“Ya used ta be hot ta trot, sugah,” Anna cajoled. “G’wan, show me how it’s done!”

“Start thinking about what we’re going to do with your hair,” she commanded, “and step aside.” Anna turned from the closet with a grin as Sage rifled through her clothes.

Downstairs, Lucas poured himself another glass of iced tea and watched the news on Anna’s tiny television anchored under her cabinet.

“…Valle Soleada PD reported more incidents today regarding mutant on human violence and a recent bomb threat from an unnamed source. This is Manoli Wetherell, reporting live…”

Gravity settled over him and spoiled his earlier pleasant mood. It was like watching history repeating itself, promising the same future he’d hoped to help Xavier’s school and Storm’s team avoid.

Out of long habit, he checked the scanner array that linked him to the network. Despite interference with his connection due to unseasonable weather activity over Texas, he managed to find their location. Neither of them had sent out a distress signal…

“Now what are you up to, Ororo?” he murmured under his breath. Both she and the Cajun were the best at making a speedy exit, which was why they were the logical choice for the assignment at the ranch.

He pondered whether to contact them, but Anna’s voice calling downstairs interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey, Luke?”

“Yes?”

“Whatcha doin’ down there? Don’t stand around lollygaggin’, g’wan ahead and get ready?”

“I am ready,” he argued. “I’m fine in what I have on.”

“Naw. Yer fine, shoog, I’ll give ya that, but that get-up ya’ve got on has got ta go.” He stared down at his denim shorts and black tank and shrugged. “We’re steppin’ out. Ah expect ya ta spruce yerself up and put on yer dancin’ shoes. We’re gonna tear it up.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” he muttered under his breath. He heard Sage and Anna chatting briefly before the sound of the bedroom door closing cut their voices off.

Great.

Luke pulled up an online map and searched the local area for a shopping mall. Moments later, he hopped on his bike and sped down the highway. The smell of salt water and the feel of the road thundering beneath him cleared his head and tempered his misgivings about the night’s activities.

I don’t dance.

 

*

Back in Texas:

“Stormy,” Remy choked before his lips descended upon her,” yer so sexy.”

They fit easily against each other, nearly the same height, and he settled into her fevered kisses and greedy embrace. Her moan was hoarse and needy, but also resigned; they knew what they were doing was wrong, yet they couldn’t deny it anymore. It was bigger than both of them.

He breathed in the scent of her damp skin and hair, enhanced by the moist, floral aromas of their surroundings. He drank beads of water from her lips and neck while she moved against him. Ororo’s lush breasts were firm against his chest, then in his palms as he cupped one. 

“Remy,” she cried helplessly as he tugged on her nipple and toyed with it, drawing heat and tightness into her sex, “that feels so good, please, don’t stop.”

“Can’t,” he rasped. “Want you so fuckin’ bad, chere!” She was slightly surprised at the profanity, since he was usually such a gentleman whenever they were together, knowing that she wouldn’t even tolerate blue language from Logan, of all people.

She’d cut him some slack. His mouth was wreaking havoc at her ear, breathing hotly into it and suckling the tender lobe. Remy made sounds of content around her flesh. Ororo felt the bulge beneath his slacks growing and hardening as he ground himself against her. Her fingernails lightly scored his back. She soothed the superficial wounds she made as she kneaded the lithe, solid knots of muscle. His skin was smooth, supple and hot.

He was driven by lust and the spell she had him under whenever she moaned his name. Remy couldn’t get enough of her quickly enough to suit him, but she stalled him, pulling back to look up into his red eyes.

“Wait,” she chided him.

“Like hell, petit!” His erection was throbbing impatiently, craving her wetness.

“Do it right,” told him calmly before kissing him hard. He groaned in satisfaction while she distracted him. Ororo’s fingers worked at his belt quickly; the buckle clattered in the grass when she whipped it away from his body.

“Damn, chere!” Her eagerness turned him on even more. “How bad d’ya want it?”

“Do you even have to ask?” ZZZIIIIIPPP! The slacks abraded his legs slightly as she shoved them down his legs. He nearly tripped as he stepped out of them. Ororo knelt before him, easing herself down his body and trailing steaming kisses down his chest and belly. His hips bucked and she nearly laughed at his sharp intake of breath.

“Holy shit!” he hissed. “Stormy!”

“These need to go,” she told him simply. His dick bobbed free from his navy blue cotton briefs as she yanked him off. Its thick tip smacked her in the mouth as she breathed over it.

“If you say so…holy mother of God,” he groaned as her lips sucked him inside. Her mouth swirled him around in luscious heat and felt like wet silk, and it should have been illegal in forty-nine states.

Except Texas…

The lapping water and night sounds around them mingled with her staggered breathing while she sucked him off. Ororo sighed in satisfaction at the musky, salty taste of his flesh. Her palms skimmed over his beautifully sculpted body, teasing his nipples or combing through the crisp, dark nest of hair around his manhood. Remy’s senses were inflamed by being completely bare out in the open, stroked by the sultry night air and faint breeze.

“You don’t know how crazy you make me, Remy!” she mumbled, fondling him with her hands when she took her mouth away long enough to draw breath. “Walking around in those tight jeans…mmmmmm…smiling like you don’t know how women look at you, how I look at you…taste so good, you’re perfect…” she punctuated each claim with a generous lap or swirl of her tongue. “You’re just…this wicked tease. You break hearts like mine and everyone else’s just by looking at a women with those devil’s eyes…I can’t get enough of you.”

Her words deepened the thrust of his hips as he pushed himself into her mouth, building up a rhythm. Every muscle in his body was drawn tight with the effort to maintain control. His thief’s fingers curled into her silky white hair and clutched it, then cupped the base of her skull to encourage her. She read his signal and suckled him harder, engulfing his entire shaft. His knees almost buckled as the walls of her throat pulsed around him, milking him.

Moments of awe and languor mingled with sharp bursts of arousal as she worked on him, drawing out his body’s responses to her. Remy let Ororo have her way with him, and once again, she didn’t disappoint him. He always trusted his Stormy, one hundred and fifty percent.

 

*

Valle Soleada:

 

Roughly two hours later, Sage looked up from the laptop at the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

“I was wondering when either of you would see the light of day again…oh.” Lucas sauntered into the kitchen and gave her a smile.

“What do you think?” He edged out from behind the counter and let her examine him. “What?” he huffed as Sage motioned to him with a twirling motion of her finger, urging him to turn around. He did a slow, uncomfortable three-sixty. “What’s wrong? Does it look all right?”

“If the look you were going for is ‘young studmuffin mutant on the prowl, ladies, hold onto your panties,” then yes, you’ve succeeded.” She gave a low “hmm,” nodded, and went back to her laptop.

“So it looks all right?”

“You’ll do,” she told him pragmatically. He reached into his pocket for a small tin. “What are those?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, popping one into his mouth.

“Are those breath mints?”

“This sort of thing calls for fresh breath,” he shrugged. “Doesn’t it?”

“You haven’t done this sort of thing much, have you?”

“Truthfully?”

“Yes, please.”

“No.”

“Take a page from Remy’s book. You have to be a lover, not a fighter sometimes.” He snorted, nearly choking on his third glass of iced tea. Between the mellow, sweet brew and the unforgiving heat of the day, he’d grown addicted to it.

“Physician, heal thyself,” he reminded her.

“I can play the role when the occasion calls for it. I was Shaw’s companion for many of Club’s soirees, as well as the facilitator for the events themselves.”

“That was all?”

“Despite some of the rumors floating around the school, no, Lucas, I wasn’t his paramour.” She scanned through the databanks in one window of her screen while she watched the evening news on the other. He watched the cursor’s reflection in the depths of her eyes. She was no longer focusing on him, and he felt strangely hurt.

“This was a pleasure trip. Come with us. Show me what you learned at all those fancy ‘soirees’, Tessa.”

“Sage,” she corrected him, without missing a beat.

“Nope. Sage is all business. I want Tessa to come out and play.”

“I don’t play.”

“I didn’t think I did, either. Look around you,” he said, gesturing out through Anna’s patio doors. “No riots, no robots, no terrorists of either gene, and its finally cool enough that we can’t fry an egg on the hood of a car anymore. Better yet…it just feels so good to feel normal for a change.”

“I didn’t know that was a rarity for you. I feel ‘normal’ every day.”

“You know what I’m talking about, don’t be cute.”

“I’m never cute. Strike that word from your vocabulary.” Irritation filtered its way into her cool tone.

“We’re among other mutants out in plain sight. Look at me,” he gestured, pointing to his eye and its distinct insignia. “I went out shopping today and no one even blinked.”

“You make that look work. Always have. What else is new?” The click of her fingers over the keys was almost rhythmic.

“We don’t have to fight tonight. We don’t even have to be on our guard every second of the day or feel like targets.”

“Liar.” She arched one tapered brow at him.

“All right…perhaps slightly vigilant, but just once, I’m happy to just be out of uniform. I’m happy to just be. I never thought I’d ever come this far.”

“You weren’t the only one who grew up in a war zone, Lucas,” she said softly.

“Then tell the soldier to take a rest and let the girl come out and play.”

“I’m always the soldier, Lucas, despite the change in uniform.” She turned from him and headed to the refrigerator. “And don’t expect another encore from my camisoles and boots any time soon, either.”

“Wait…what?”

“Don’t bother wastin’ yer breath, Luke, she’s a brick wall. Ah already tried ta convince her ta paint the town red with us, but she ain’t gonna budge. Least if Ah still had Carol’s strength, Ah could drag her away from that thing-“

“Don’t be so sure,” Sage challenged. Again, a hint of a smile almost played around the corners of her plump, ripe mouth.

Anna sighed. It was such a waste that such classic beauty was squandered on a woman who was too cold and cavalier to care who appreciated it. Sage’s body was a road map of curves and sleek muscle, tall enough to be statuesque, but not an Amazon like Ororo. She dressed herself in no-nonsense black leather pants (something Lucas often had a hard time coming to grips with; it was distracting and made his thoughts travel in wicked directions) and the school-issued gray striped tank with the team insignia. Jean once jealously admitted that Sage was the proud owner of the best ass in the house.

Her skin was perfect porcelain, creamy and fair, and her eyes were almond-shaped and wintry blue. Her hair was as disciplined as Sage was, skinned back in a snug hair clip and pinned up. The woman herself and her looks intimidated everyone.

She wasn’t the least bit remorseful.

Anna was in the hallway, poring through the closet for her favorite purse. “Wish ya’d change yer mind.” Neither Luke or Sage had laid eyes on the finished product yet.

“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

“Party poop. Guess it’s up ta you an’ me, then, Luke, to…oh. Wow.” She appeared in the doorway and stood agog.

Lucas was similarly affected. Slowly he set his glass back down on the counter so his nerveless fingers wouldn’t send it shattering on the kitchen tile.

He took her breath away.

She was gorgeous.

Sage merely watched the two of them. Measured their reactions to each other.

Anna’s feet were rooted to the spot, shod in a pair of strappy, high-heeled sandals that emphasized lithe, tapered legs. Her short, emerald green dress made them look miles long. If you could even call it a dress…

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

Lawd have mercy…

Was that Lucas?

And was that her with her mouth hanging slightly open, heart fluttering and stomach doing a little flip-flop?

Sage quietly extracted a bag of bagels from the lower shelf of the fridge. She deftly sawed one open with a long serrated knife. Any other time, Lucas would have kidded her that she looked too confident handling sharp objects, but his heart just wasn’t in it.

He was distracted.

“Um…you, uh, hungry?”

“Sh-sure, definitely.” His mouth had gone dry. But then his stoic mask was back up as he gestured for the door. “Do you have everything you need? How do you want to get there?”

“Guess Ah can’t ride the bike in this get-up,” she admitted.

“Leave something to the imagination, at least,” Sage deadpanned. “Or try.” Her bagel popped up from the toaster. “Don’t keep him out past his curfew.” Lucas snorted. Anna wrinkled her nose.

“Then let’s get down ta business, Dimples. Toodles, girl.”

“Toodles,” Sage muttered back over her shoulder. She took a hearty bite of her buttered toast as the kitchen door slammed shut.

She lost interest in it, however, as she watched them climb into Anna’s Jeep. Anna’s raucous, girlish laughter drifted back to the house.

It was always so easy to keep Lucas on a long tether, just out of arm’s reach. They both knew it was best, he seemed fine with it, and it caused no complications. But her feelings changed when she saw how he reacted to Anna and the prospect of an evening out with her.

She pretended it didn’t matter as she went back to watching the news.

*

Ororo was undoing him, and she enjoyed herself in the process. Remy groaned with need, but he craved the feel of her against him again.

“C’mere, chere,” he beckoned, drawing back reluctantly and letting his swollen cock slip free of her wet, red lips. She peered up at him in momentary confusion.

“I wasn’t finished!”

“Neither am I,” he offered to pacify her as he lifted her up by the arm. “Trust me when I say, neither am I. You’re turnin’ me on, sweet thang.” His voice was low and thick as he kissed her. His hands wreaked havoc as they caressed and kneaded her, and Ororo moaned her approval into his mouth.

“Oh, God, Remy!” she cried, exchanging her own deity for his. His throbbing flesh bobbed against her, poking itself between her thighs. The wetness he found there enticed him and heated his blood a few more degrees. His blunt fingernails scored their way down the small of her back before he cupped her ass, squeezing it and working her against him roughly.

“I’m gonna make this last, cuz it can’t ever happen again, Stormy,” he cautioned her, even as he devoured her neck. “But ya ain’t ever gonna forget this night. I want ya ta dream about it. And I want those dreams ta put a smile on yer face.”

“They will. I just don’t want this to keep you up at night.” She betrayed her own words as she pumped her hips against him.

He walked her backward, away from the river, and this time Remy knelt before her. She gasped at the way he nipped the pliant flesh of her belly, swirling the tip of his tongue in her navel. He smelled the ripe fragrance of her sex, musky and heady, and he wanted her that much more. He had to taste her.

“Open for me, chere. Bring your leg up for me.”

“Remy, what are you…oh, Remy!” She nearly tumbled back as he looped her leg neatly over his shoulder, letting her foot dangle over his broad back. 

“Mmmm,” he murmured as he leaned in close and nuzzled the sweet little nest of curls over her sex and probed it with his tongue. Once he found her tender flesh, he lapped it up. Her legs stiffened in surprise, then relaxed with pleasure as she leaned on him for balance. This time it was her hands that cradled his head, letting it bob and dip over her. Skilled fingers crept inside her, parting soft petals for a better taste.

She grew lost in him. Her inner muscles squeezed around him as he thrust his hand more deeply inside her heat. Her cries grew louder; Ororo was completely heedless of anything but being in the moment with Remy and how good he felt. Pleasure bloomed and swelled inside her, and they hadn’t even made love yet.

He could have been the one, in another time, in different circumstances. Fate cast them as friends and drew different loves into their lives, for better or for worse. They chose to bend fate to their own whims, even if it meant keen suffering over the risk they took. It was worth it as she reached her fulfillment, writhing and moaning a litany of prayers and his name. Remy worshipped her body, on his knees, and could ask for no other favor.

He didn’t have to. He guided her down to the springy grass and covered her willing body. Ororo arched into his embrace and wrapped her long legs around his waist. 

“Yer so damned fine, Stormy, ya know that, dontcha?” he urged. “I can’t help wantin’ you the way I do.” She rocked herself beneath him, thrusting up her hips. The slick lips of her sex slid along his shaft with each motion, rhythmically, promising greater pleasure once they joined. Remy cradled her beautiful face in his big hands and trailed heated kisses over her soft brown skin. Her nipples beckoned to him, appetizingly stiff, dark peaks. Remy dragged his mouth over her, between the valley of her breasts and circled the tip, then engulfed it. He suckled her, and the firm, snug pull of his tongue and teeth excited her even more.

“I need you now,” she said, voice hoarse with longing. “I need you so much right now, Remy.”

“Can’t wait anymore, chere!” he apologized. He lifted her hips at an angle that suited him and rubbed the tip of his penis against her tender flesh, then pushed it inside. Her muscles squeezed him, welcoming him as he filled her. Her eyes snapped open in surprise, then drifted shut as he began to move within her.

“Goddess…Remy,” she whimpered as the sensations swept through her. A sheen of sweat covered him, making his muscles stand out more sharply in the darkness. Remy savored the feel of her beneath him, around him, invading him with her essence. Anna’s green eyes drifted before him every time he closed his own, but it was Ororo’s voice chanting his name and crying out how sexy he was, how amazing he felt, contradicting all that he knew.

Oh, yes. He loved Ororo Munroe, not as the love of his life, but as another part of himself that he’d denied too long. Before Anna gave him her soul, Ororo gave him hope, challenging him to dream and work for bigger things than his own gain. She’d never asked anything else for herself, from him, than his trust and honesty. She deserved so much more; his betrayal of Anna shouted back at him that he couldn’t offer Ororo anything more than that if he could hurt the woman who held his heart.

But he relinquished that part of him that Ororo possessed from the moment they met; it was no longer his from their first kiss. If she would still claim it from him, it wholly belonged to her.

He changed position, kneeling up on his haunches and hooking her legs over his shoulders once more, satisfied with the view. Ororo threw her head back and moaned for him, digging her nails into his thighs while she thrust back at him. He rode her hard, wild for her, held captive by the sight of her breasts jiggling as he pounded into her.

“Come for me,” he begged her, “oh, God, baby, please! I wanna feel ya come for me, I wanna hear it from those pretty lips, Stormy…” His dick throbbed for release as she began to spasm around him. He palmed her mound possessively, then dampened his thumb in her juices, rubbing her clit in time with his thrusts. Her thighs stiffened and clamped around his shoulders, feet banging against his back, threatening to snap him in half.

She sang out long and loud for him; a flock of starlings took wing from the trees overhead. Her voice and the shudder of her walls around him pulled him over the edge with her; Remy’s face twisted in pleasure and pain as he came. His climax barreled through him, making his pelvis shut and jerk harder, faster, until he emptied himself.

Her legs went limp, falling free from their perch around his neck. Ororo trembled as he lowered himself to her, his arms unwilling to support him. She easily took that chore from him and held him in her embrace. They listened to each other’s harsh breathing and thundering heartbeats in the cool grass. The sky lost its foggy pallor, and a blanket of stars emerged from the clouds, matching the two lovers’ serenity and contentment. Ororo’s lips feathered over his brow and her breath stirred his hair when she spoke.

“Rogue will kill us for this.” Remy said nothing; words wouldn’t fix it or change any other answers to the question that lingered between them for too long.

*

 

Valle Soleada:

“Yer attractin’ a lot of attention, shoog,” Anna murmured as they entered the crowded club.

“Look who’s talking,” he countered. “You’ve given about six men whiplash since we parked the car.”

She gave him a shy smile that was still full of feminine pride. She felt exposed and vulnerable, but it was a heady sensation, feeling so many eyes on her, many of them admiring her. She’d always hidden herself under layers of clothing, being able to feel but not touch, secure that she was protected from anyone who wanted to take physical advantage of her.

Her first night with Remy was filled with discovery and awe. He whispered to her that she could never disappoint him, that her lack of experience excited him, that he had so much he wanted to show her. She craved him with a hunger that was overwhelming, even frightening. She opened herself to him, but still felt insecure, afraid that she needed him to much, that she would smother him. His eyes always searched her face, questioning her.

“Why ya so afraid, petit? Remy’s not goin’ anywhere, ya hear?” She heard him, but his latest mission petrified her. Before, she had the liberty of tagging along, knowing she could cover his back, and provide the muscle in case they ran into a scrape.

“Ah almost lost ya once, Rem,” she reminded him grimly. She worried the corner of her lip between her teeth before he swept her back and kissed her. It was long, sloppy and satisfying, and she was slightly dazed when he let her back up.

“Believe that I’ll come back. Know that I love ya and that life ain’t worth livin’ without ya.” His departure with Ororo left her with misgivings that she knew he didn’t deserve.

But there was something in Ororo’s demeanor, in those crystal blue eyes when she watched Remy precede her out the door that made her shiver. Anna longed to call him back, but he was already gone.

When Anna wasn’t fixing bikes, she fretted and stewed, taking long walks on the beach and swimming until her limbs were limp. Sage and Luke’s visit was meant to be a distraction.

She never expected to have so much fun.

“Smile for yer little fan club over there. Want me ta make mahself scarce powderin’ mah nose while ya mingle?” she teased.

“Don’t,” he warned her. His stiff tone surprised her, it’s low rumble slightly anxious. “No way are you deserting me in this crowd.”

“Scaredy cat. Live a little. Loosen up.” She peered up at him from over her shoulder. His chest was broad and firm at her back, grazing her as they navigated through the other patrons to the bar. “Did I tell ya how handsome ya look?”

“No,” he replied over the din of music as they snagged a couple of empty bar stools. Anna propped herself carefully on hers and crossed her magnificent legs.

“Yer wearin’ the hell outta that get-up. Clean up real nice.” Her cat-that-ate-the-canary smile ate him up. Lucas felt himself flush with chagrin, but also pride.

He cut a dash in an olive khaki button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his elbows, exposing brawny forearms and a thick silver wristwatch. The shirt was open at the throat; Anna noticed the cords of muscle in his throat and two fine silver chains that he wore. She was unaccustomed to seeing him wear jewelry, and he’d even added tiny silver hoops in his ears. He has nice ears, she mused. She reached out playfully and tweaked one.

“Hey!” he protested, but his lips twisted into a grin.

“Couldn’t help it, yer just soooo cuuuuuute,” she cooed. He leaned against the bar, arms folded as they waited for the server to notice them. The crowd pressed around them, nudging closer together. Anna was so close to him that he felt her breast brush against him, and it made the hairs on his neck stand on end. She wasn’t finished with him. 

He suppressed a shiver when she reached up and caressed his smooth scalp. He’d abandoned his fade haircut and decided to shave it off, and the difference was striking. Her touch made his body react fiercely, every nerve and muscle going on high alert. Her skin was silky. Anna trailed her fingertips down the contour of his cheek, the angle of his jaw, and she traced the edge of his tattoo.

“Why so serious?” she said. Her gaze was intent.

“Huh?” He recovered himself and said “Are you thirsty?” She nodded easily.

“Tequila shooter.” His raised his brows. 

“Help,” he muttered. Her laugh rocked him.

“Lighten up.” She beckoned to the bartender who was diligently looking at her cleavage framed by the low halter neckline of her dress. “Cuervo shots. Prepare ta keep ‘em coming.”

Lucas followed her lead, licking up a dab of salt from the back of his large hand, even though he felt silly. He watched her slap the bar and toss back the shot in one gulp. 

He wished he hadn’t, himself, when the clear poison corroded every ounce of his flesh that it touched.

“Holy…! Oh, God,” he gasped, slamming the shot back down on the counter. Anna burst into giggles and handed him a wedge of lime from a nearby garnish tray.

“C’mon, take it easy, Luke, suck it! You heard me!”

“What?” he yelled over the din.

“SUCK IT, LUKE!” She reached up and pushed the bit of lime into his mouth. The gesture shocked him, and his lips pursed briefly around her finger, sampling her skin.

She withdrew her hand sharply; he could tell she was affected, too, as her grin faded to a look of quiet awe. Her fingers trembled as she reached for her own wedge and bit down on it, draining it of its juice. His coffee brown eyes bore into hers. Suddenly she felt naked.

The tequila gave him a warm glow that rippled in his belly and through his limbs, making him euphoric.

“Ya ain’t much of a drinker?”

“I’ve always had to stay clearheaded. Not much time for this kind of thing.”

“Make time, Luke. Enjoy it. Set us up,” she called to the bartender, waving a twenty at him.

Despite a snack at a nearby beachside café before they came, the alcohol was going to their heads. Anna told him one bawdy joke after another. The normally reserved soldier and peace officer’s cool reserve cracked. He facepalmed in an attempt to smother his laughter, but it was futile.

“…so then the third nun said “I wanna gargle in it before those two wash their butts in it!”

“Good Lord,” Luke snickered helplessly as he reached for his next shot.

“Hey, Luke?”

“Hmm?”

“Ya wanna finish that drink and go dance?”

“Um…”

“What?”

“I don’t…really dance.”

“Sure ya do.”

“I’m not all that experienced-“

“That don’t mean ya don’t dance. C’mon, hurry up and chug it so we can get down ta business.” Before he could protest, she took his hand and licked the back of his thick knuckles. He sucked in a breath and felt his slacks grow uncomfortably tight. Lucas was rock hard, and Anna wasn’t paying attention to the change that settled over his features as she liberally sprinkled him with salt.

“Here, go ‘head and lick, already!” He shook his head.

“Uh-uh.”

“Whaddya mean, ‘uh-uh?’”

“You do it.” His voice was a low, dark rumble. He reached for the shot with his free hand. Her touch burned him. His large hand dwarfed the shot glass; condensed moisture sweated from it and made the liquid resemble crystal in the flashing lights. “Here.”

Arousal fierce and sharp gripped her, making her stomach flutter. Anna felt her nipples ruche and stiffen beneath the flimsy cotton knit of her dress. She cleared her throat and her tongue darted out to moisten her full lips, glossed in pink and driving him crazy.

Without letting her eyes leave his, she dipped her mouth to his hand and lapped up the salt, flattening her tongue against him and tasting his skin. His gasp was choppy. The bulge between his legs throbbed almost painfully when she wrapped her hand around his and let him guide the shot to her lips.

He watched her throat work the liquid down and she licked the last droplet of it from her lips. Together they set the glass back on the counter. Lucas calmly plucked a tidbit of lime from the tray.

“Don’t forget this.”

“Thanks, baby.” He held it out between finger and thumb. Her lips closed around them and sucked the fruit into her mouth. She finished it and tossed the limp rind into the empty glass.

“Let’s shake a tailfeather.”

“If you say so.” She was already yanking him after her, tucking his hand into a surprisingly strong grip.

“I wanna see you move.” She guided him easily through the crowd, which seemed to part as they watched the sexy girl in the killer green dress have her way with the strapping man who came with her.

So Lucas moved.

They were swallowed up by the patrons around them, buffeted by chests, hips and limbs. Anna’s body arched and swayed; he watched rapt as each muscle rippled and isolated in perfect rhythm. He always considered her graceful, but Lucas never knew she could dance.

If there was one thing Lucas Bishop had learned, it was how to blend into a crowd out of necessity. His body began to move, finding the rhythm of the music throbbing around them. Laser strings of colored light flickered over the crowd, licking over him and illuminating his dark skin.

Anna laid her hand on him, sliding it up his chest and cupping his shoulder. Her smile enveloped him and drew him in until she was flush against his chest. His arm looped around her waist and held her close without his permission and their bodies began to move in sync.

He could blame the alcohol. He didn’t want to.

This wasn’t the Lucas she knew, yet he was.

His body felt hot and rock-hard, its planes fitted against her curves so easily and smoothly she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. Her creamy skin contrasted against his chocolatey tone, creating a striking picture as they danced, caught up in the moment and each other.

Friends could dance…couldn’t they?

She’d never found him as intimidating as everyone else did, despite the hard, and occasionally haunted look in his eyes and the stiff way he carried himself. Lucas was all business, no play, one of the reasons she felt made him gravitate toward Sage, and even toward Ororo during their acquaintance. Lucas felt strongly about some things, but passionately about none. Or so she thought.

She’d baited him, heckled him, even. Anna loved to get a rise out of him because he made it so difficult, and she loved a challenge. He was such a contradiction to Remy, both men’s personalities complementing each other as they forged an unlikely friendship.

He’d never expected him to take her seriously. She’d never cared whether he did or not.

Until now.

Lucas’ hands caressed her back firmly, molding to its slope where it joined her ripe ass. They grooved, and his hands guided her hips to work themselves against him as he moved. She followed where he led this time, her cavalier grip on his shoulders turning into an embrace as her arms slid around his neck. She felt the pulse in his neck against her temple and smelled his sweat mingling with his spicy cologne.

The spell was broken when a drunken girl behind them tripped and stumbled into them. Anna looked up into Lucas’ face, eyes wide with surprise at how tightly they held each other. She stared at his mouth and cleared her throat.

“It’s gettin’ kinda close in here, Luke, ya wanna skedaddle?”

“Sure. It’s…a little warm.” They bantered their way out into the parking lot, this time keeping a gap between them as he unlocked her Jeep. They drove home in near silence, Anna only asking him which radio station he favored. She let the windows down to let the crisp sea air cool her heated cheeks. She sighed and closed her eyes. Lucas watched her profile and admired how serene she looked.

“Anna?”

“Yeah, Luke?”

“Thank you.” He turned back to the road.

“Yer welcome, sugah.”

Anna keyed her way into the front door; Lucas kept a safe distance behind her, not wanting to dog her heels on the way inside. In the kitchen, Anna didn’t even smell the remnant of Sage’s toast or any other aroma of foods. The house was silent; she’d even taken her laptop upstairs.

“Mah dogs are barkin’ in these,” Anna sighed as she took off her shoes, dangling them by their straps from her fingers. She tossed her purse onto the couch and turned to him. “Ah had a good time tonight, Luke.”

“I’m not going to forget it any time soon, myself. I enjoyed it.” He tucked his hand in his pocket and rubbed his nape as he studied her through hooded eyes.

She approached him slowly and he watched the gentle roll of her hips.

“Then let me thank ya.” Anna cupped his jaw and stood on the balls of her feet, raising her lips to his. He met her halfway, leaning down to brush hers in a light kiss.

Anna drew back in wonder. Her hand trembled as she released him.

“Luke…”

“I’m sorry. God, Anna, I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“It ain’t yer fault. It was me. Ah took too many liberties. Gawd…” Guilt suffused her as she realized what she’d done.

“Let’s do what two adults do when they make a mistake, Anna.” His mask of calm reserve was back, even though his voice was unsteady. “I tell you I’m sorry. We promise this won’t happen again, and we move on.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “Good night.”

“G’night, Lucas.”

Anna padded upstairs as quietly as she could. Sage made no sound from the bedroom adjacent to hers, separated by a bathroom. She wanted to assume she was out like a light, given the late hour, but Sage seemed like the type to sleep with one eye open regardless.

Anna slipped out of her dress, thankful for the cool breeze blowing in through her window now, but she still felt feverish and out of sorts. Her tequila buzz faded and left her moody. She contemplated her stack of CDs and decided she was better off with her MP3 player. She inserted the ear buds and turned it on, flopping onto her queen-sized bed. The thick duvet felt cool and smooth against her bare back.

Unbidden, the memory of Lucas holding her came back. She could still feel his hard chest and the warm skin of his neck pressed against her cheek. Her MP3 pumped a low thrum of techno music into her reverie, and Anna wished she could still see the club lights. Anything to make the best part of her night with him last longer…

Her hands agreed with her. They began to roam over her body, and she gave herself the guilty luxury of pretending they were Lucas’.

How would they feel against her, if he touched her everywhere? Gentle? Firm? Insistent? Slow and thorough? How would his voice sound in the dark, rumbling into her skin, from right above her?

Her fingers drifted down the column of her throat, whisper-soft, and traveled down over her breasts. She stroked them gently, feeling how satiny her skin felt there and how pliant and full they were. Would Lucas like them? Would he call them beautiful like Remy had?

Remy!

Her hands stopped; she folded her arms around herself and shook off the unfaithful thoughts. No.

Remy had waited for her. Through hell and high water, he’d waited for her, loved her. It was Remy’s voice that whispered goodnights into her hair before she drifted off and that rasped good mornings into her mouth at sun-up. He owned her heart.

And finally, he laid claim to her body. She finally enjoyed a relationship with him that was mutually satisfying and physically fulfilling. It was the greatest gift she knew how to give.

But where is he now? asked the voice in the back of her mind, the one who reminded her every day how many chances the Cajun had to satisfy his needs elsewhere, with someone he could touch.

Ororo took him away with her. Anna released the grip she had on herself and swept her hair back from her face, staring up at the ceiling.

She didn’t know if she would hate herself later during that night, but her hands began to roam again. This time, images of Remy came and went, as did the image of Lucas she held in her mind’s eye.

This time Anna didn’t hold back. Her hands returned to her breasts, toying with them. She dampened her fingers in her mouth and rolled her nipples between them, savoring the tingle in her belly and the tightening in her pussy. She clenched those muscles and tugged at her breasts more rhythmically. Her back arched, making the mattress creak ever so slightly, and Anna was afraid Sage would hear…then again, maybe Sage was up to the same mischief, loner that she was. She dismissed it.

It felt naughtier, knowing she could get caught.

She sucked her fingers into her mouth again, making them wetter and enjoying the oral sensation. Her hips arched in time to her hands’ play, rocking off the bed. A low moan escaped her lips…

Downstairs, Lucas stared up at the ceiling. The fan whirred in the background. Nothing seemed to cool him off. He cursed the tequila he’d downed with so much abandon.

He’d taken a cold shower. Read a bit by low lamplight. Watched television on Anna’s tiny spare with the volume turned almost down to zero. Nothing helped. Nothing would help.

Remy was his friend. Anna was his friend. Anna was Remy’s girlfriend. Three good reasons, right there, to say “hands off.” She was off-limits.

Her lips tasted like strawberries.

No. Don’t even go there, man.

Her body was smoking hot. He could still smell the light fragrance of her hair, feel it tickling his lips…

No. No. No. No. Nonono. Remy’s not gonna find your boots under his woman’s bed. Capice?

…was she upstairs in bed thinking about him?

His brooding was interrupted by a sound from upstairs.

Bedsprings?

 

Upstairs, Anna was fighting for her release, and it felt so good, yet so futile. It wasn’t the same as feeling another heartbeat beneath her palm or being skin to skin, but it would have to suffice.

One hand slid over the slope of her stomach and teased the edge of her bikini briefs. She shuddered in need and anticipation for the main event…

Anna stroked her sex over the satin of her panties, feeling the texture of coarse, springy curls beneath tickling her fingers. She savored the sensation of friction that act created and pleasure swirled in her belly. The mattress creaked again.

Below, Lucas felt his gut clench. He sat up and rubbed his face, trying to focus on anything else.

Anna was awake.

And she was…active.

His cock woke up. Now he’d never get to sleep…he avoided touching it, knowing it would only make it worse.

She was enjoying herself in her empty room, even bereft of his touch. She pretended it was Lucas tugging off her panties and slipping them free of her feet, Lucas’s palm sliding over her warmth and abrading the wiry curls, Lucas’ fingertip, slipping between her folds and feeling the slick wetness inside…

“Aw, Gawd,” she hissed through her teeth. Pressure was building up inside her, making her pussy hot and tight every time she clenched those muscles around her finger. Wet, sucking sounds broke the silence and she caught the hint of her own musk in the air. She thrust a second finger inside and pumped until her wrist cramped, paused, them pumped again, changing her rhythm. Her other hand joined her efforts, rubbing her juices over her clit until it was slippery and tender.

OhGodohGodohGod… Her lips silently synched the words in her head as she drew closer…

The sensations spiraled. Her breasts were covered in a rash of tingles and heat that spread into her womb, and every muscle in her body spasmed in pleasure as she came. Her fingers wrung out as much of her climax as her body allowed, drawing it out.

“Lucas,” she whispered. “Oh, God, Lucas…”

Nearly two minutes later, exhausted, she lay limp atop the duvet. Thinking.

She was thirsty.

Anna fished inside her closet for her favorite dark blue Dodgers jersey and slipped into it, buttoning only the last three. She chucked her MP3 onto the dresser; the ear buds dangled free and were left swinging from the momentum.

He heard her. His dick was hard as a rock, throbbing and painful.

Luke needed to get up and clear his head, and he decided another glass of iced tea would fit the bill. Then he might just sit out on her porch, under the stars, and count them until he grew drowsy.

His feet were silent on the kitchen tile. He wore a pair of black silk boxers that Betsy had given him for Christmas. The gift was extravagant, once he never felt suited him until he tried them on. The feel of the fine cloth against his skin was decadent, but unfortunately, it only amplified his little…affliction.

As if things couldn’t get worse, he heard her coming downstairs!!!

Lucas held his breath as she entered the kitchen. He froze in the act of reaching for the pitcher.

“Luke?”

He swallowed around a lump. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She nodded to the pitcher. “Thirsty?”

I want to kiss you again. “Kinda.”

“Gonna hold the door open til the little penguins inside tell ya ta quit letting out the cold air?”

“Geez…” He was flustered and embarrassed, both feelings that were foreign to him. Lucas set the pitcher down on the counter and backed out of the fridge.

…but not in time for Anna to miss the huge erection tenting his shorts, illuminated by the light inside the refrigerator. He turned to face her as he closed it. It bobbed with the motion and her eyes were instantly riveted on it.

Shit.

Her mouth formed words that had nothing to do with the voice of common sense screaming at her to shut up. “Um…got somethin’ on yer mind?”

All they could do was stare. Anna licked her lips. His libido licked its chops at the sight of her in the jersey, short-sleeves and open at the neck, draping open to expose the hills of her breasts. Her nipples poked out the ribbed fabric, begging his attention. The hem of the shirt just covered her hips. He could once again see her long legs and it was doing dangerous things to his self control.

“You.” One word. It was all he could manage.

“Oh.” She tried and failed not to stare at the bulge in his crotch. It was huge, and so were her eyes.

“You’re staring, too.”

“Yeah.”

“This is awkward.”

“Ta say the least, shoog.”

“Don’t mind me.”

“Yer makin’ it hard.”

“Don’t…say…hard.”

“Oh. Right.”

“What I did was wrong. It wasn’t fair to Remy.”

“Naw. It wasn’t.” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts – that’s not helping, Lucas’ mind screamed – and stared down at her pedicured toes. “But that was mah fault, too.”

“We got caught up. It won’t happen again.”

It won’t? her mind prodded.

He edged past her, and the sparks between them made his cheeks flame.

She caught his wrist. He stiffened.

“Luke?” she murmured.

“What?”

“Ah can’t sleep.”

“Count sheep.” Gently he removed her hand and walked away. 

“Not into sheep.” The entendre made him groan and gave him wicked visuals of Anna with livestock. Why did she have to be so sexy? The universe was cruel…

He was still headed toward his room. She followed him; it didn’t occur to him that her voice wasn’t getting further away.

“It’s late.”

“It’s lonely.”

“We need our beauty rest.”

“You’ve had plenty.” Her eyes were hungry when he faced her, and his resolve was almost gone. Her breasts heaved and he nearly felt her pulse racing, even standing across the room, keeping time with his…

“Luke,” she told him, “Ah’m wide awake. Somethin’ started tonight that won’t let me go, won’t let me sleep, and won’t stop mah mind from wanderin’ where it supposed ta go. Ah can’t just go upstairs ta bed and expect ta sleep when Ah can’t get dancin’ with you and kissin’ you outta mah mind. Ah can still feel you. Ah can still taste you. Ah got mahself off thinkin’ about ya before Ah came downstairs, and Ah want a second round of the real thing.”

“Remy…” he argued, but his voice died.

“Ah love him. Ah can’t lie that Ah love him. But he ain’t here, and Ah don’t know when, or even if he’s comin’ back, no matter how much Ah fool mahself. Ah’ve only been with one man. Thought Ah’d never wanna be with another man once Ah found the of mah life, but Ah wouldn’t feel this way, how Ah feel when Ah look at you, if it wasn’t supposed ta happen.”

“If what wasn’t supposed to happen?”

“Bein’ with you. You makin’ love ta me.”

“You’re in love with my friend.” He turned away from her so she couldn’t see the emotions on his face. He pulled down the covers on the bed. “Go back to bed, Anna.”

“So that’s a no?” Part of her, the sensible part of her was relieved. Her body clamored for him.

He sat down and leaned his elbows over his knees. “I can’t make love to you when we don’t love each other. I care about you, Anna…”

She was quick, quicker than he expected. She crossed the room in swift strides and pressed her fingers over his mouth.

“Then don’t make love ta me, sugah.” Her next words socked him in the gut. “Fuck me.”

“Mmmrmph?” he muttered. His brows flew up almost comically, but she wasn’t in the mood to joke.

“Ah need ta get this outta mah system. You’re here, and that,” she nodded to his erection, “is too damned good ta waste.” She knelt before him, insinuating herself between his knees. His arms opened slightly and made room for her, fingers grazing the soft fabric of her jersey. “Yer a sexy man, Luke. Felt good tonight at the club, and it feels good now.” She leaned in and let her lips brush the sensitive skin of his throat. He suppressed what sounded like a whimper. His cock strained toward her, she was so close.

“Ah want you ta fuck me. Long and hard, and take yer sweet time, shoog.”

He released a pent-up breath and moaned against her fingers, closing his eyes as she bathed his neck, lapping up the taste of him. His lips opened slightly and he nibbled her fingertips, barely scraping them with his teeth; he sucked them inside, drawing on them like a popsicle.

“Gawd…Luke…” Her eyes went hazy with desire before his arms jerked her against him. He buried his fingers in her hair, leaned her head back and crushed her mouth beneath his. The kiss became a heated, frenzied struggle between them to experience and taste each other fully, missing nothing. His velvety tongue teased the inner seam of her lips before slipping inside. It stroked hers, searching the hot confines of her mouth, and she sighed in approval.

“Anna,” he rumbled over her lips, “I want you.”

“Then take me.” Her hair sifted through his fingers as he trailed hot kisses over her face, forehead, eyelids, the gentle slope of her pert nose, her feverish cheeks, then back to her full, ripe mouth. He couldn’t get enough of her.

Sex. She’d lived without it so long; her body craved whatever opportunities that presented themselves to make up for lost time, but she’d relied on Remy to fill that void. Always.

His hands felt ten times better than she imagined as they roamed over her body, groping her ass and squeezing it over the shirt. She felt a slight draft when he flipped up the hem and stroked her bare skin, testing its heft and roundness in his palm.

“Sexy,” he murmured into her hair as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth. “Beautiful. You’re making me so damned hot.”

“Don’t stop, Luke.” Her breath shuddered out and caught as his fingers traced her delicate flesh, exploring the line of her back. 

Lucas’ chest was smooth and hard beneath her palm. She cupped his cheek and slanted her mouth against his, again and again, growing lost in his kisses and the heat building between them. She flicked his flat, hard little nipple with her fingertip, feeling it bead more tightly. His torso was taut and rippled with muscle, trembling with each touch as she caressed him.

He pulled her to her feet and stared reverently at her. Her breasts loomed just above him. He deftly undid the buttons of her shirt, opening it like a present.

They were gorgeous, creamy, large, high and round. Her nipples were stiff, ruched pearls, and he gathered her close to take one in his mouth. He groaned at the deliciousness of her flesh as he suckled it hungrily, continuing to grope her. Her moans were strangled and desperate, she had to have more of his mouth on her, more of his hands…

He kneaded and tugged at the other breast while his other hand teased the cleft of her ass. Her buttocks clenched and she clutched his head, wanting to guide him to suckle her harder, enjoying the smoothness of his scalp.

He released her breast and skimmed his palm over her body and scooped it between her legs, rubbing the mound of her sex in long, slow strokes. His other hand still teased her ass, and his finger rubbed her anus, tracing the edges of the tiny, snug hole before the tip probed its way inside.

“Ahhh! Luke!” Feeling him stimulate her in all three zones at once nearly threw her over the edge, but she knew she’d enjoy the ride.

She wanted him to fill her; instead he teased her. While he occupied her tiny hole, he entered her soft folds, already slippery from the way she worked on herself upstairs. He withdrew his hand long enough to sample the taste from his fingers. He groaned in pleasure, and it was the hottest sound she’d ever heard. He watched her face while he returned his hand to its snug nest. Both his hands thrust in concert while he suckled her. It was heady but not enough. Her shirt slid down her shoulders, leaving him an unimpeded view of the rest of her body.

“I’m going to make you come so hard,” he promised, “and then I’m going to make you come again. Do you want that?”

“Yes.” She could barely form the response.

“All night. One night, Anna.”

“Please.”

“You taste so good.”

Before she could reach her peak, he disengaged himself and pulled her down to him again. She took his silent cue and knelt again, this time reaching for his waistband. His cock was straining, so she freed it, letting it jut through the flap of his boxers. At the first touch of her hands he exclaimed, “Anna!”

She tugged him free, cupping his balls in her palm and stroking the hairy flesh with her thumb. His length overflowed the length of her fist easily, generous and thick, much more than adequate. The contrast between her white fist and his dark flesh was striking and erotic in the dark as she lowered her mouth to him, engulfing the swollen head. She lapped up the drop of precum glistening in the tiny crease.

“Tastes good, Luke.” She hummed into his flesh in pleasure. He strained and bucked, leaning back onto the mattress against his hands. His arms didn’t want to support him. Luke tangled his fingers in her long auburn hair again and just let her work, following the bob of her head as she took him deeper inside.

She rode his dick with her mouth and consumed him, not holding anything back. His legs were spread wide, giving her room and creating a nook for her smooth, sexy body. He rubbed her back with his heel, unable to help the feelings rushing through him, still needing to touch her. She grew wetter and tighter inside the more she sucked him off. Hearing how worked up he grew was turning her on. She wanted him. All of him.

Once again he pulled her up from kneeling and let her tumble him back onto the bed. Skin on skin was an incredible experience that they couldn’t deny themselves as he slid her on top of him, kissing her wildly, desperately. He embraced her so tightly she grew dizzy but she knew she was in his capable hands, that he would do anything to please her.

Her hips rocked over him wantonly, letting his stiff head buffet her tender clit, then slide through her slick lips. She pumped him this way, gaining momentum and speeding herself toward another orgasm.

“What’re you doing to me, girl,” he pleaded.

“Makin’ ya want me as much as Ah want you.”

“Don’t. I need this. Need you now.” He stopped her hips, gripped them in his large hands and thrust her down upon himself, impaling her. His thick cock was sheathed in her, filling and stretching her. It ached but felt so right that she couldn’t help moving over him, beginning to pump him, to ride him like she’d promised.

It was good. So good.

Her breasts jiggled and bounced. He teased them as she worked on him and occasionally rubbed her clit, loving the desperate sounds she made.

She was where he wanted her to be, sliding up and down on his hardness, stroking and milking him, doing it so right. He was coming undone, but Lucas gripped her hips and began thrusting her even faster over himself, harder, while his hips pistoned from beneath. He drove himself into her, meeting her thrusts, and her answering smile turned into an “O” of delight and surprise. His cock began weeping slowly inside her, relieved to be where it belonged, treated so well by her walls clenching around him, stroking him, sucking at his flesh…

She felt him jerk, five or six quick, sharp spasms before his dick stiffened and cramped inside her. He came, eyes snapping open and staring at her in shock. His body rippled and his cock pounded into her with the momentum, triggering her own fulfillment.

Their voices mingled in low curses and cries. Once she collapsed in his arms, each time either of them moved, a spare frisson of their earlier orgasm would make them twitch. She squeezed him convulsive within her depths; his arms were wrapped around her so tightly she thought she’d snap in half.

His caresses were tender and Lucas smoothed her hair back from her face. She felt his lips on her forehead as she traced the line of his pecs with her fingertip.

“Thinkin’ about this was gonna keep me up damned night,” she admitted. “Wow.”

“Wanna go again?”

“When Ah can feel mah legs.”

“Anna?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I make love. I don’t fuck.” She peered up at him.

“Luke…Ah didn’t mean it that way…”

“I know. Anna,” he began as he situated her to let her lean up on her elbows. He stroked her cheek, letting his thumb skim the edge of her plump lip. “I know you’re in love with Remy…but when you look back at what happened tonight, we got carried away. We made love. And I never had a better night in my life than I did here with you.”

“Feelin’s mutual, sugah.” She kissed him gently, then again, more deeply. Tenderly he rolled her to her back and began all over again. When they awoke tangled together the next morning, the house was empty; Sage left them a note on the refrigerator that she’d gone to the beach.

FIN.


End file.
